


Slow Dances on Sleepless Nights

by smudgesofink



Series: Musical Volleyball Dorks [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: College AU, M/M, Songfic, also Kuroo breaks into people's apartments, and Bokuto is a darn good singer, in which Akaashi is an insomniac
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-05-09 17:23:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5548985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smudgesofink/pseuds/smudgesofink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Akaashi watches as his boyfriend turns the volume up to its maximum setting, Bokuto’s favorite song chasing away the remaining heavy silence. He manages a faint smile as Bokuto looks over at him.</p>
<p>“Hey, hey, Akaashi.” Bokuto grins wider and outstretches a hand to his seated boyfriend. “Dance with me.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slow Dances on Sleepless Nights

Akaashi has counted 242 sheep.

Or, more accurately, he’s reached 242 sheep before he lost count for the fourth time in a row tonight, and he honestly can’t tell if that’s impressive or pitiful. He contemplates on the idea of starting over and counting again but when he does, it feels as if the sheep are taunting him now with their fluffy white bodies surfacing in his mind. 

Akaashi forgets about the sheep and lets the cracks on the ceiling distract him for a minute. _Should I try counting them instead?_

Even though he knows it’s a terrible idea, Akaashi counts. His mind blanks out when he realizes that some of the cracks are kind of connected to each other and does that count as just one crack or two cracks or what? How about cracks that branch out into tiny, baby cracks? _Fuck._ His dark eyes feel heavy, sore, and he’s certain the bags underneath them will be incredible tomorrow.

_Kuroo-san will laugh at me again_ , Akaashi thinks in passing, blinking slowly, and then scowls, _that bastard._

Akaashi finally sighs, sitting up in defeat.

The fact that he just called Kuroo a bastard in his head is a testimony to how bad his night is going. With another heavy exhale, Akaashi throws the covers off him and goes out of the bedroom, confused when he notices yellow light streaming out from their tiny apartment kitchen.

Curiously, he drags his feet towards the entryway and his boyfriend’s broad back is the first thing that greets him. _Oh,_ Akaashi thinks dumbly because of course it’s Bokuto; who else was he expecting to see? Akaashi stares for a full minute, appreciating the wide expanse of his boyfriend’s hunched shoulders. There are faint wrinkles on his shirt from what Akaashi assumes was Bokuto squirming restlessly in his seat and Akaashi is tempted to smooth them out.

_…Would counting the creases on his shirt help me sleep?_

He pushes the desperate thought away, clearing his throat lightly. “What are you doing?”

Bokuto jerks up, startled, and then whirls around sharply, bloodshot gold eyes landing on Akaashi’s form. Bokuto blinks at him. “Hey, hey, you’re still awake?”

Akaashi scowls, somewhat appeased only when his boyfriend winces at the stupidity of the question.

“Sorry”, Bokuto says, “this term paper is turning my brain into mush. Bad night?”

“The worst.” He answers and makes his way to the chair beside Bokuto, just then noticing the papers scattered across their kitchen table. There are wads of balled up paper littering the floor around Bokuto’s feet, some thrown far away in the corners of the room. Their tiny kitchen is a giant mess. “You better clean this up before you go to bed.” Akaashi informs Bokuto and sits himself down, glancing at his boyfriend’s current work. To Bokuto’s credit, he’s occupied at least six out of ten pages already.

“I’ll clean it up, I swear.” Bokuto mumbles, dropping his head down theatrically, and pouts like a cranky five-year old. “But Akaashiiiii—” He whines and Akaashi almost whines alongside of him in exhaustion and annoyance combined, “I’m so, so tired, I don’t think I can write another sentence—no, I don’t think I can write another _word_ , Akaashi, save _meeeee._ ”

“Don’t pout, Bokuto. It’s unbecoming.” Akaashi resists the urge to roll his eyes when Bokuto pushes his lower lip out even further and sniffles, mocking him. “Besides, you’re almost through with it. Don’t stop now.”

“I know but I’m _tired._ ”

“I heard you the first time.” Akaashi says but takes pity on his apparently very sad, very tired boyfriend and cards a hand through Bokuto’s messy hair, watching his eyes fall close in what seems like bliss.

The gel is mostly gone, probably from the multiple times Bokuto gripped his hair in frustration, and the black-white strands under his touch are surprisingly soft. He pets it a few more times, suppressing a smile when his boyfriend presses up to his palm like a cat.

_…Or an owl,_ Akaashi muses, remembering Bokuto’s bright, wide eyes. It should weird him out how much his boyfriend looks like the certain bird but truth to be told, Akaashi has just chalked it up to be one of those qualities only Bokuto has. “You should finish your paper.” Akaashi tells Bokuto as he brushes hair out of his forehead. Bokuto opens his eyes and peers at Akaashi drowsily and it’s only then that Akaashi sees the evident exhaustion weighing Bokuto down.

The words escape him before he can think about it. “I’ll stay with you until you’re done.”

“You’d do that for me?”

The intense heartfelt gratitude in Bokuto’s gaze is enough to make Akaashi feel overwhelmed and he can't bring himself regret his sudden statement. He sighs, standing up. “I can’t sleep anyway.” He replies dismissively, trying to pretend he still has everything under control and that the heat in his face isn’t a blush. “I might as well keep you company. Coffee or chocolate?”

“Hot chocolate.” Bokuto says, raising his head to glare at Akaashi and reminding him, “For both of us. You know you can’t drink coffee this late at night, Akaashi.”

“I know that.” Akaashi says but the abashed expression on his face says otherwise. His footsteps are loud, much too loud, as he walks to the counter and Akaashi makes a split second decision to turn on the radio sitting atop their fridge, if only for something to break the stale silence that sits between the two of them.

 

_My anaconda don’t!_

 

Akaashi freezes.

Behind him, Bokuto cackles like a madman as the lyrics of Nicki Minaj’s Anaconda fills the room at 11:45 p.m. and whoops, “Aw, yeah, this is my jam!” Akaashi shoots Bokuto a warning glare and the alarm must be clear in his eyes because his boyfriend smiles a shit-eating grin in retaliation and, to Akaashi’s utter horror, begins to sing along.

 

_“My anaconda don’t want none unless you got buns, hon—”_

 

Akaashi scrambles to switch it to another station, pressing the buttons harshly in his haste, and releases a relieved breath when the atrocious song is replaced by a milder pop song with a nice beat.

“Akaashiiii”, Bokuto whines again, “why’d you change stations? Switch it back.”

“No.” Akaashi grunts with an air of finality. He takes out two cups and places a kettle on the stove to boil. “And if you attempt to sing it again at any time tonight, I will break up with you.”

Bokuto squawks in protest. “For singing a song?!”

“It’s midnight and I am sleepless and I have an exam tomorrow. Don’t test me.”

Bokuto juts out his lower lip petulantly but doesn’t argue further. The conversation lulls again as Bokuto returns his attention to his unfinished paper and Akaashi puts cocoa powder in the cups, waiting for the kettle to whistle. Just as he’s pouring hot water into the cups, Katy Perry’s Wide Awake blares out of the radio speakers.

Akaashi pauses, caught off guard, and turns to look back at Bokuto, only to find his boyfriend already staring dumbly at him. The irony of things is not lost on either of them. Akaashi’s mouth twitches up without warning and Bokuto’s cheeks puff out ridiculously as he tries and fails to muffle his laughter.

This time, they snicker together and Akaashi lets out low chuckles as he goes back to his seat and sets their drinks on the tabletop.  Overcome by the sudden rush of fondness, Akaashi leans in and presses a kiss to Bokuto’s cheek. Surprised, Bokuto glances at him, and then grins like he’s basking in the sun. Akaashi indulges him another kiss, a proper one to the lips this time, just because he’s too beautiful to resist sometimes.

Eventually, Akaashi coaxes his actual five-year old child of a boyfriend to continue his writing and considers it a small victory when Bokuto follows without much fussing. Despite telling Bokuto time and time again to _please stop staring at me when I’m working on a piece, Bokuto-san, it’s creepy_ , Akaashi can’t help but do the same as Bokuto hunches himself over his paper again, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration and the slightest hint of a pink tongue poking out of his mouth as he scribbles words onto the page in his large, round handwriting.

Akaashi smiles, and thinks,  _I love you._

_\- o -_

 

It’s 2 a.m. in the morning, their cups are drained, and Bokuto is eight out of ten pages when a familiar tune floats into the air and makes them share another look.

 

_The stars lean down to kiss you_

_And I lie awake and miss you_

_Pour me a heavy dose of atmosphere…_

 

Even when stupidly tired and with dark circles under his eyes, Bokuto’s smile is incredibly giddy and bright as Vanilla Twilight plays out in the radio, and for a moment, Akaashi is breathless as he stares at the wonder that is Bokuto Koutarou. Bokuto leans back on his chair and shuts his eyes dramatically, belting out the next lines,

 

_“’Cause I’ll doze off safe and soundly”_

_“But I’ll miss your arms around me”_

_“I’ll send a postcard to you, dear”_

_“’Cause I wish you were here”_

 

For all that he is loud and exuberant for what seems like all the damn time, it amazes Akaashi just how opposite Bokuto’s singing voice is, soft and soothing and endearingly sweet. When it fades into the instrumental part, Bokuto says “Wait a sec!” and hastily stands to scurry to the radio. Akaashi watches as his boyfriend turns the volume up to its maximum setting, Bokuto’s favorite song chasing away the remaining heavy silence. He manages a faint smile as Bokuto looks over at him.

“Hey, hey, Akaashi.” Bokuto grins wider and outstretches a hand to his seated boyfriend. “Dance with me.”

Akaashi blinks at him. Being his boyfriend of a year and a half now, Akaashi is used to hearing Bokuto’s outrageous requests-- _"Hey, hey, hey, Akaashi! Let's go stand under the rain!"_   _"We can't, Bokuto. We'll catch a cold, and we have classes tomorrow."--_ and is more than used to turning him down. While the request isn’t as outrageous as usual, it’s still out of the blue enough to take Akaashi aback and make him blush.

He attempts to formulate an excuse. “B-But your paper—”

“Aw, come on. It’s Vanilla Twilight, Akaashi!”

“Bokuto, it’s very late—”

Bokuto walks to where he is and stops in front of him, smiling down at Akaashi in a way that makes the heat in his cheeks increase and the pounding of his heart to intensify. Akaashi swallows nervously, throat suddenly gone dry. Bokuto’s golden eyes are mesmerizing and Akaashi knows he’s done for when Bokuto bats his eyelashes and says, “Please, Keiji? Just this once.”

 

_I’ll watch the night turn light blue_

_But it’s not the same without you_

_Because it takes two to whisper quietly_

 

He takes the offered hand and looks away briefly so he wouldn’t be subjected to the full force of Bokuto’s blinding smile. “Fine.” Akaashi relents, allowing Bokuto to pull him up and walk the two of them to the small clearing in their kitchen. “Just this once…Koutarou.”

“You’re the best.” Bokuto praises as he wounds his strong arms around Akaashi’s waist and when Akaashi tentatively wraps his own arms around Bokuto’s neck, they begin to sway to the melody.

 

_The silence isn’t so bad,_

_‘Til I look at my hands and feel sad_

_‘Cause the spaces between my fingers_

_Are right where yours fit perfectly_

 

It’s a quiet few seconds and they’re nothing but pressed up bodies and shuffling feet and it should be awkward, Akaashi thinks, because he’s 5’’10 and Bokuto is a solid 6’’0 and they’re both quite big in the cramped space—

 

_“I’ll find repose in new ways”_

_“Though I haven’t slept in two days”_

_“’Cause cold nostalgia chills me to the bone”_

 

—but at the same time, there’s Bokuto’s gentle singing, whispering the lyrics in his ear like sweet nothings, and Bokuto is warm and sturdy and smelling of hot chocolate and it’s all Akaashi can do not to melt against him. He buries his face in the crook of Bokuto’s neck and feels the tension bleed out of him, his body relaxing instinctively at the sound of Bokuto’s voice.

 

_“But drenched in vanilla twilight”_

_“I’ll sit on the front porch all night”_

 

Bokuto hums in his ear and then Akaashi feels lips pressing against the side of his head,

 

_“_ _Waist deep in thought because when I think of you, I don’t feel so alone…”_

_“I don’t feel so alone…”_

_I don’t feel so alone…_

 

He draws back as his boyfriend peers down at him and for a second, they stop and stare at each other. Akaashi doesn’t know if it’s because he’s delusional with exhaustion and contentment but he suddenly remembers exactly why and how he fell in love with Bokuto. 

He remembers first noticing that there are darker hazel flecks in his eyes, remembers first smiling at Bokuto’s stupid joke, remembers the two of them laughing at something silly until they’re breathless and flushed—he remembers the first time they said ‘I love you’ to each other and Akaashi thinks he wants to say it now.

He does just as much, murmuring quietly, “I love you.”

 

_As many times as I blink, I’ll think of you tonight…_

 

“I love you, too.”  Bokuto breathes out, pleasantly surprised judging by the jump of his eyebrows, and his eyes twinkle in the dim light. “I love you, too, Keiji.”

 

_I’ll think of you tonight…_

 

“I heard you the first time, Koutarou.” Akaashi shoots back with an amused smile. He pushes himself up slightly, just enough to press his grinning lips against Bokuto’s. It’s awkward, their teeth clacking together and making Bokuto snicker like a kid, but Akaashi won’t have it any other way.

_“When” violet “dark brown eyes get brighter”_ , Bokuto sings with a cheeky grin when the lyrics start up again and Akaashi huffs a silent laugh, _“And heavy wings grow lighter, I’ll taste the sky and feel alive again.”_

 

_“And I’ll forget the world that I knew”_

_“But I swear I won’t forget you”_

_“Oh, if my voice could reach back through the past”_

_“I’d whisper in your ear”_

 

Akaashi lays his head back down on Bokuto’s shoulder and closes his eyes, letting Bokuto shift them around in a tiny circle, swaying left and right in some kind of odd dance. He feels Bokuto’s warm mouth right by his ear again and with his voice dropping down low and quiet, Bokuto sings,

 

_“Oh, darling, I wish you were here”_

 

They complete three more full turns in the instrumental that follows and by the time the song ends, their feet have stopped moving and they’re basically just cuddling in the middle of their kitchen, Bokuto wrapped all around Akaashi’s form. Akaashi’s breaths are deep and even, his eyes refusing to be opened again, and he lets out a sleepy hum when Bokuto nudges him.

“Akaashiiii”, Bokuto drawls out, elongating the last syllable out of habit rather than an actual desire to annoy, “I’m your boyfriend, not your glorified pillow.”

_But you’re so warm,_ Akaashi reasons in his head and it’s only when he hears Bokuto laugh that he realizes he said it out loud. Bokuto nudges him again, stronger this time, and before he can understand what’s happening, Bokuto has bodily dragged him to their dark bedroom and is backing Akaashi up to the bed.

“I can walk.” Akaashi complains even when his arms are still coiled around Bokuto’s thick torso and he hangs there like a koala. “You didn’t have to drag me.”

“Here we are!” Bokuto chirps, blatantly ignoring him, and pushes at Akaashi until he drops to sit on the bed. Akaashi releases his hold on his boyfriend with a reluctant frown but any unhappiness fades away at the soft give of their mattress and Akaashi slips into the warm covers, sighing appreciatively.

_Finally,_ Akaashi thinks, already half-asleep as he recalls his earlier restlessness. There’s none of that now as he shifts to make himself comfortable and promptly shuts his eyes. A sudden weight dropping down next to him and the warmth that follows it startles him into blinking awake again.

“Bokuto”, he begins in disbelief at the sight of his shirtless boyfriend cuddling up against him, “you still haven’t finished your paper.”

“But you look so comfortable!” Bokuto wheedles, hugging Akaashi from behind and burrowing his face in the space between his shoulder blades. “And warm. And soft. And I’m _tired_.”

“You left a mess in our kitchen—”

“Tomorrow.” Bokuto promises readily, pressing a pleading kiss on his back when Akaashi begins to grumble. “I’ll clean it up tomorrow.”

Akaashi lets it go with a heavy sigh, too tired to argue further.

They fall asleep like that, with bodies plastered together, Bokuto curled around Akaashi and his mouth near Akaashi’s ear, mumbling sleepy, nonsensical sweet nothings, and Akaashi dreams of slow dancing to a soft tune and Bokuto’s voice.

 

_\- o -_

 

When morning comes, they wake up with matching eye bags and find Kuroo eating cereal in their kitchen, unfazed by the scattered papers all around and the fact that _this is not his apartment._

Kuroo glances up, takes one look at both of them, and laughs. Loud.

Bokuto throws a mug at him.

Akaashi glares and calls him a bastard.

 

**Author's Note:**

> So! This is my very first Haikyuu!! fic. Please be gentle with me.
> 
> On the side note, I do adore BokuAka so much, and their dynamic is so adorable. I could only hope I characterized them well enough in this fic.


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